More Steele at It
by KSteinart
Summary: After the Canne edict, Steele and Laura work through their relationship problems.


**More Steele At It **

by K. Steinart

This extends the ending to Steele at It. Original episode material by Jeff Melvoin is in italics.

DISCLAIMER: This "Remington Steele" story is not-for-profit and is purely for entertainment purposes. I do not own the characters and am in no way affiliated with "Remington Steele," it's creators, producers or distributors.

Remington and Laura walked along the dark promenade in Canne watching moonlight glint off the ocean waves below. Their case, and Laura's choir tour, were finished, and possibly their relationship as well.

_"So, does Remington Steele return to Los Angeles with you or does he disappear back into the mist of night again?"_

_"How can he disappear?" Laura asked. "You're not only a nationally-known detective, you're an international hero."_

_"Well, if the shoe fits, Laura," he said, noticing her disapproving glance. "Only a joke. Only a joke." They paused at the railing. _

_"I know. Look, why deny it? We're a terrific team, you and I. Our only problems arise when we try cross the line between the boardroom and the bedroom. I know you care about me. I care about you too. A great deal. But if we care about preserving this partnership of ours, then we can't try to conduct a romance at the same time. That's why I've decided not to see you outside of business hours. It'll be hard at first, but it's for the best. We'll just have to give it up." He did not reply. "Well? Say something."_

_"It's obvious you've given this decision a great deal of thought, Laura. I'm not going to try and talk you out of it."_

_"You're not?" _

_"We must try to respect each others' feelings, even though they may run counter to our own. Especially then." _

_"What a relief! I thought you'd fight me all the way on this," she said, smiling._

_"Not at all. I mean, If you feel this strongly about it, I suggest we try this plan of yours and see how it works." She kissed him on the cheek, thanking him for understanding. "I give it a week," he mumbled, turning to look at Laura as fireworks went off over the ocean._

Laura turned to watch the fireworks, smug in the knowledge that she was finally in control of the situation. Steele slipped away without saying a word. He saw Ron, Laura's amorous choir director, in the hotel lobby.

"Ron old boy, got a tip for you," Steele called as he approached.

Ron looked confused. "Aren't you Mr. Steele, Laura's -ah- friend?"

"No no, merely her boss, a work associate." Remington waved his hand as if dispelling a false rumor. "Anyway Ron, Laura is very upset about having missed that boat trip to work on a case. She'd really like to make it up to you."

"She would?" Ron was skeptical. "I thought she was dodging me."

"I'm sure she just wanted to look industrious in front of the boss." Drawing Ron in closer with a hand on his back, Steele leaned in and confided, "She's out watching fireworks by the railing." Remington pointed. Ron nodded his head and straightened his tie. "Oh by the way, don't tell her I mentioned anything. I don't want to be accused of meddling in my employees love lives eh?" Ron gave him the thumbs up and headed outside.

The fireworks ended with a flourish. "Those were spectacular. Let's go to the patio for a nightcap." Confused, Laura glanced around when she discovered it was Ron, not Remington, standing beside her.

"A nightcap sounds perfect." Ron offered her his arm. With no graceful way out, Laura reluctantly took his arm and allowed herself to be led away.

Watching from a shadowy spot beside a potted palm, Remington congratulated himself on a job well done. He loosened his tie as he headed upstairs to plan his next move.

Laura glanced at her watch. It had been only 45 minutes, but seemed like hours. Deciding enough was enough, she pushed her chair back from the table. "I should turn in," she apologized. "Early bus tomorrow you know."

"Oh, well, yes," Ron stammered. "Should I see you safely to your room?"

Laura held up her hand. "That's all right. I'm a detective. I'm used to danger. I'll be fine." Ron stood, awkwardly reaching out to give her a hug. Laura took one of his outstretched hands in hers and gave it a pat. "I'll see you tomorrow, on the bus."

"Great, see you on the tour bus tomorrow then," Ron called to her rapidly retreating back.

Upstairs, Laura went directly to Remington's door and knocked loudly. Inside, he was watching an old movie - dubbed in French - on television. "Business only Miss Holt, your rule. Now let's see how long you can stick to it." He ignored her knocking. Frustrated, Laura stalked back to her room, picked up the phone, and dialed. "Not falling for that either Laura." Remington turned up the volume on the television. Laura hung up the phone, went out and leaned over the balcony, trying to see in his window. It was no use. His drapes were drawn. She banged her hands on the railing and went back inside. She picked up the phone again, this time dialing Mildred's room.

"Hello?" Mildred answered.

"Hi it's me."

"Miss Holt, what's up?"

"I don't know. Is Mr. Steele there?"

"No, I thought he went to dinner with you."

"He did, but I seem to have lost him."

"He's missing?"

"No, never mind, good night Mildred."

"Night." Mildred hung up wondering what was up now.

The next morning Laura carried her suitcases to the hallway. The choir's tour bus was due to leave for the airport in less than an hour. She started toward Remington's door, but thought better of it and headed down to the lobby without him. Mildred hurried over. "Where's the boss?"

"I don't know and I don't care. He's a big boy, let him take care of himself."

Mildred raised an eyebrow, but made no comment. Gradually the lobby filled with choir members and suitcases. Laura kept scanning the crowd, but she didn't spot Steele anywhere. She did, however, see Ron, who was also scanning the crowd. Laura ducked behind a group of tall bass singers and hid until the bus pulled up. As director, Ron was first out the door to supervise their departure. Everyone grabbed luggage and began to move toward the exit. Fighting her way against the tide of oncoming choir members, Laura surveyed the now deserted lobby for Steele.

"We'd better board, honey, they're ready to leave," Mildred advised. Reluctantly, Laura followed Mildred onto the bus.

"I hope he's happy. He's missed the damn bus." Laura slouched in her seat and stared glumly out the window as they pulled away. Halfway to the airport, a motorcycle passed the bus. Joelie was driving. Remington rode behind her, his arms firmly around her waist.

Mildred nudged Laura and pointed. "Hey isn't that the boss?" Laura frowned and turned away from the window.

Remington was nowhere to be seen at the airport check-in desk, nor did he appear at the gate. Laura and Mildred boarded the plane and took their seats, an empty seat between them emphasizing the situation.

"He'd better get a move on, or he'll have to swim back," Laura muttered.

"Yes, it's fascinating work," said a familiar voice. Turning toward the sound, Laura saw Remington walking out of the rear galley with a stewardess.

"but really no more dangerous than what you do every day. Thank you so much for the tour Miss --"

"Call me Pamela," the stewardess said.

"Thank you again Pamela." He took her hand and kissed it. "I'd better take my seat."

"Ring if you need anything," Pamela called.

"I will," Remington assured her with a smile.

Laura turned back around to find Ron in the aisle. "Well ladies, it appears that I'm 14 B." Ron pointed to the empty seat between Laura and Mildred.

"There must be some mistake, this is Mr. --" Laura stopped herself and looked back. Remington was now seated between two of the youngest and loveliest choir members. He spotted Laura staring and nodded his head slightly, a smile stealing across his face, before continuing an animated conversation with the ladies. Laura turned around quickly. "Have a seat," she said resignedly to Ron.

"Better buckle up Laura, we're about to take off." Ron patted his own seatbelt. "Just think of all of the fun filled hours we have ahead." He enthusiastically grabbed the seat card to check out which movies were being offered. Putting a hand over her mouth to stifle a groan, Laura turned toward the window and rolled her eyes.

Exhausted, Laura and Mildred drug their bags out of customs and headed to the passenger pick up area where Fred waited with the limo. He loaded their bags into the trunk while they climbed into the back seat. Shortly afterwards, Remington appeared. He handed his luggage to Fred, shut the open back door, and settled into the front seat.

"Plenty of room back here boss." Mildred patted the vacant seat.

"Thanks, I'm fine," he replied without turning around.

The ride home was silent. Fred arrived at Mildred's apartment first. He unloaded her bags and carried them to her door. "Bye kids, see you Monday." Mildred called as she searched for her keys. Laura and Remington both waved as the limo pulled away. Next, Fred pulled up outside Laura's loft, again carrying the luggage to the door.

"Guess, this is me. Do you want --" Laura cut herself off. "See you Monday." She watched as the limo drove off before turning to carry her luggage upstairs.

Sunday was a blur for Laura, an unpleasantly boring, lonely blur. The whole day was thrown off by jet lag. It would have been nice to spend the day with someone equally lagged, eating and napping at odd times, trying to adjust back to Pacific Standard Time. Instead, Laura found herself gazing longingly at the phone, wanting to call him. She picked up the phone and dialed all but the last digit before hanging up. It was like kicking any bad habit; the cravings would subside, just give it time. She laid down on her couch, turned on the television, and began watching an old black and white movie. Unfortunately, that made the cravings stronger. Laura shifted onto her back and lay staring at the ceiling. Two sets of caribiners were still attached to the metal beams where Remington had rigged up a trapeze during that circus case. Laura got up and went over to her grand piano. She ran her fingers over the keys, sat down on the bench, and flipped open a book of sheet music. A small card fell out, "Play it again Sam" written in an all too familiar handwriting. Laura slammed the keyboard cover closed and went into the bathroom to draw herself a hot bubble bath, confident that at least in there, she wouldn't be bothered by any stray memories.

A few miles away in penthouse apartment 5A, Remington was in a similar dilemma. The same black and white movie that Laura had been trying to watch at the loft flickered on his television. Remington was pacing around the room, paying very little attention to the program. "Bloody stupid rules." He turned off the television and went in to the kitchen to heat up a packet of noodle soup, hoping a light snack would get his body rhythms back in sync. While he was eating, Remington fought off visions of Laura wearing his clothes and smelling faintly of smoke. "I thought yesterday would have made you cancel your stupid edict, " he said to the imaginary Laura across the table, clattering his spoon into his now empty soup bowl. "Tomorrow I'll stick excruciatingly to your plan until you reverse your decision about business only."

At the office Monday, Remington stuck to his plan. All conversations were strictly about business and he didn't set foot into Laura's office unless summoned. At noon he went to lunch alone. Precisely at six, he called a curt "good night" as he left for the evening.

Tuesday, Steele chatted with Mildred at her desk and took several coffee breaks down the hall at a large reception area used by several offices on the 15th floor. Laura pretended not to notice and buried herself in paperwork.

On Wednesday a woman from an office down the hall came by to go to lunch with him, and another woman stopped by after work to go to dinner. "I'll be right with you Shirley." Remington called out loudly, making sure Laura could hear. For good measure, he went into Laura's office. "I'm heading out to dinner, anything you need before I go?"

Laura glared at him. "No, that will be quite enough thank you."

"As you wish." He waved his hand in a short salute, then left her office door open so she could see him leaving with Shirley on his arm. Laura got up and slammed the door after they departed. She returned to her paperwork, but was unable to concentrate properly.

On Thursday and Friday Remington seemed to spend more time hobnobbing out of the office than he spent working within it. Laura considered extending the intercom down the hall so she could summon him to meetings. A staggering array of women came and went from the office, flirting, chatting, and extending meal invitations. "He must have branched out to other floors. There couldn't possibly be this many women who work on the 15th floor," Laura told the stack of files in front of her.

Remington was extraordinarily charming to all of the women he asked out, but dinner - which was always at a restaurant - was usually over before eight. He didn't want Laura to know, but not one of those women was ever invited back to the penthouse. The woman du'jour was dropped off at her doorstep and Remington returned home alone. He spent the remainder of the evening wandering aimlessly around his apartment, wanting to call Laura, and cursing because he couldn't.

Laura spent each evening driving herself crazy thinking about Remington and the women he was with. She found herself wanting to call to see if he was home. Wanting to drive by his apartment to see if she could see lights; more specifically, firelight, candlelight, or perhaps shadows cast at the windows. In the end, Laura did nothing but fret and pace. "Stop being so high school," she told herself sternly. "He's a grown man, he can do what he wants."

"I wish he'd do what I want," said a small voice in her head. But she didn't really know what that something would be. It was much easier with Murphy. He took the "don't mix business with pleasure" speech just fine. He never flaunted women in and out of the office. They were friends, having an occasional dinner or a game of golf together, going bowling, or for a beer. Why was Remington being so difficult?

"Why do you care?" the internal voice challenged her. "You never cared if Murphy dated other women, but if Remington even looks at another woman your blood pressure rises."

After a very long and very lonely weekend for both Laura and Remington, it was finally Monday morning again. Laura decided she wasn't going through another week like the last one. No more women parading in and out, he can arrange to meet them somewhere else. And no more lounging down the hall. From now on, only two fifteen minute coffee breaks allowed a day. From her office, Laura heard Steele enter the reception area and greet Mildred. Determined to be firm, she went into his office.

"Good morning Miss Holt." he greeted her as he unfolded a newspaper at his desk.

"Ah, the elusive Mr. Steele. I need to have a word with you." Remington lowered his paper and looked at her expectantly. "Stop being the Casanova of the 15th floor," she blurted out.

"I believe personal conversation at the office is forbidden. Is there any business you wish to discuss?"

"This IS business."

"No, I believe you're talking about who I dine with, which is MY business."

"You can't just... you need to stay... only two... oh fine." Laura retreated back to her office.

Mildred entered Laura's office. "Miss Holt do we have --" She stopped mid-sentence. Laura was ranting around, banging drawers and files about. "What's going on around here lately? Did you and the boss have a fight?"

"NO," Laura almost shouted. "No," she said in a softer tone. "We didn't fight."

"Something's going on, he gave us the brush off on the trip home. And what's with the parade of bimbos all week?"

"He's pouting all right?"

"He's pouting?"

"I told him we needed to keep our relationship strictly professional."

"What happened to 'tonight's the night' ?"

"Joelie and one heist too many, that's what. I can't live like that, always wondering what he's up to, who he's with."

"Right, this way is easier."

"It'll get easier, once we get used to it." Laura tried to convince herself, as well as Mildred.

"If you say so."

"Now, what did you want?" Laura tried to make her tone pleasant.

"The final paperwork on the Morgan case?"

"Top drawer, left."

"Thanks." Mildred retrieved the file and hurried back to the reception area.

"This is silly, we just need to lay down a few ground rules. Don't let him fluster you. Stay calm and control the situation. Keep it professional, not personal." Laura gave herself a pep talk before returning to Remington's office.

"Mr. Steele," she said in a no nonsense tone. "In light of our new relationship--"

Remington didn't look up from his paper. "You mean our lack of relationship?"

Laura ignored him and continued. "We need to set some ground rules."

"I think the rules are pretty clear, business only, no personal contact."

"Yes, NO personal contact. That includes all the personnel on this floor."

Remington snapped his paper down. "You don't own me Laura. You may have invented my current name and job, but I'm a real live person."

"Then act like one!"

"I do, that's the problem. I'm not the perfect fictional character you want me to be. I have feelings, and thoughts, and desires that are my own. You have no right, as my boss, or my girlfriend, to tell me how to think and behave!"

"I don't." Laura pressed a hand to her forehead. "I just want to set a few guidelines for our behavior."

"What gives you the right to dictate my behavior? I engage in perfectly acceptable corporate behavior while at the office. You have no right to say how I will, or will not, behave outside this office." Remington paused to take a deep breath, then continued in a quieter tone. "Our business relationship works because you're the boss. I can accept that. But when it comes to our personal relationship, I want to be an equal partner. Unfortunately you need to be the boss there too."

Laura blinked back a few tears. "I just, I only..."

Mildred cleared her throat. "Excuse me, but Mr. Morgan is here," she said from the open doorway. Laura quickly exited to her office, catching the door before it slammed shut. "Should I tell him to wait?"

"Show him in Mildred, and get me the file please." Remington put on a big smile as Morton entered the room. "Mr. Morton nice to see you, good news on your case, it has been resolved satisfactorily." Remington shook hands heartily with the client.

"Thank you, good to hear. But do you need to ah..." Morton pointed to Laura's door. He too, heard their discussion.

"Oh no." Remington waved a dismissive hand. "Just a little office misunderstanding, quite all right really."

"You know," Morton said quietly, "you should never try to date people at the office."

"That's what I hear." Remington nodded in agreement.

Sometime later, Remington showed Mr. Morton to the door.

"I'm really pleased with the way you handled my case, I'm going to recommend you to all my friends." He shook Remington's hand and patted him on the back.

"Glad we could help, call us anytime." Remington waved as Morton left.

Mildred got up from her desk. "Um, boss, I don't know what's going on around here, but ... well... she's been in there for over an hour."

"I know Mildred, she didn't come in at all for the meeting."

"Probably too embarrassed."

"I suppose I should go in there and say something," Remington said resignedly.

"It might be best."

"I could just let her stew about it, she deserved it you know."

"Is that the kind of guy you really are?"

"I guess not." Remington knocked softly on Laura's door, then opened it and leaned in. "Laura?"

Laura was at her desk, her back to the door. Numerous tissues were strewn around her. "Is the client gone?"

"Just left. I... uh... missed you at the meeting." He wanted to gather her into a hug, but didn't dare.

"Sorry, I was indisposed." She blew her nose. "Did it go all right?"

"Fine, he was very pleased with the outcome."

"Good."

"I guess I was a bit harsh... sorry."

"With the client?"

"No, before, with you," Remington said softly.

"I deserved it. You were right, I always try to control things." Laura wiped her eyes and turned around to face him. "I always bossed the neighborhood kids around. I picked the games, telling them 'You be the daddy, you be the mommy' ."

"And who were you?"

"I was usually Atomic Man, swooping in to save the family from disaster."

Remington smiled. "I missed you this week."

"Looked like you had enough company to me."

"They were just fluff Laura. The lot of them couldn't hold a decent conversation if they tried. I would rather have spent the time with you."

"So what was stopping you?"

"You were. You said 'no personal relationships'."

"Sitting on a plane together isn't personal. Business partners travel together all the time."

"Maybe they do... but... well... I can't be that near you and not feel... I care for you very much Laura. I can't just turn that off because you tell me to."

"Don't tell you what to feel, right?"

"It's a start. Look, if you want to discuss some ground rules for our relationship I'd be willing to talk about it."

"Really?"

"Yes, but not here. Over dinner. Care to join me? You don't have to stay for dessert."

"That sounds wonderful." A look of relief crossed Laura's face, and for the first time in over a week, a small smile appeared.

The doorbell rang as Remington basted the chicken. He turned off the oven, set the baster in the sink, and went to the door. "Laura, right on time, thanks for coming."

"I said I would. You thought I'd chicken out?"

"Chicken is what's on the menu. Just about ready actually. The wine is chilling, would you mind pouring?" He indicated a silver bucket next to the dining room table. Laura went to the table and poured two glasses. She lit the candles as Remington brought in the food.

"Hungry?"

"Looks delicious," Laura said as she sat down. Remington sat opposite her and served up the food. "I... um... don't know where to start."

"Try the salad," he suggested.

"No, not the food, with..."

"Eat first, talk later. Don't want everything to go cold." Remington picked up his fork. Laura relaxed and started to eat.

After a leisurely dinner, Remington cleared the dishes to the kitchen and Laura moved into the living room and lit the gas fireplace.

"Take the chill off eh?" remington commented.

Laura closed the glass fireplace doors. "Okay, let me have it."

"Have what?"

"Your demands, your ground rules, whatever."

"I didn't really have anything in mind, but I'm open to discussion. As long as it IS a discussion and not a dictation." Sitting in an armchair, he motioned for her to sit down also.

Laura sat on the couch and took a deep breath. "It's hard for me to relinquish control in a relationship, because it's yielded negative results in the past."

"That sounds very textbook."

"Sorry."

"You're afraid to give up control because you don't want to get hurt again?"

"Yes."

"Do you think I would hurt you?"

Laura stared at the fire, her arms crossed protectively. "I don't know, maybe."

"Never Laura. I would never intentionally hurt you, or knowingly let anyone else hurt you either."

"That's why you meet beautiful women in the middle of the night, plan burglaries with old friends, lie to me about your whereabouts, and pretend you were at a concert you had no intention of attending?"

"I didn't recommend attending your choir tour with the sole purpose of deceiving you."

"No?"

"No. Although it did present me with an opportunity to help my friends, I felt time spent together, away from the office, would be good for both of us. You know our cases always seem to get in the way of our relationship attempts."

"Go on." Laura uncrossed her arms.

"I suppose the woman you're referring to is Joelie. Believe me Laura, I am not, nor have I ever been, involved with her. I'm like her uncle. Henri is a dear old friend. I owe him my life. Joelie is his daughter, she's just a kid really."

"Some kid."

"They needed my help."

"Why you?"

"I'm a trusted friend and I'm very good at that sort of thing. Joelie's life was in danger, I had to go. I'm sorry I had to miss your concert, but it was the only time I could slip away unnoticed."

"Unnoticed by me."

"Well, yes. I didn't want you to know about the plan. It could have been dangerous."

"Very gallant of you to protect me." Laura recrossed her arms.

"You saw for yourself how ruthless the Palermo brother were. I didn't want to expose you to that." Remington leaned forward, hands clasped, arms resting on his knees. "Were you really upset that I helped them?"

"Yes... no... hell, I don't know." Laura stood up and looked out the window."Don't know what?"

"I just don't know if I can handle all of these surprises from your past. Old friends needing help, old enemies looking for revenge, old lovers..."

"Ah, old lovers, I suspect that's where the real trouble lies." He stood and put his hands on her shoulders.

"No not really." Her eyes met his in the reflection in the glass. "It's just that I don't know who's going to pop up next with some outrageous demand."

"I have a past and I have friends. Most I admit, who you might find unacceptable, but they've been invaluable to me and I owe them my loyalty."

"To the point of getting yourself thrown into jail or killed?" Laura broke away and sat back down on the couch.

"I hope not." Remington continued to stare out the window.

"Both could have happened in Canne."

"I know, but it didn't. Thanks, in a large part, to your help in uncovering the real culprit."

"Do you frequently go off helping friends behind my back?"

"I'd rather not say."

"What if you go off sometime, and something happens, and you... you --" Laura took a breath to calm herself. "That would hurt me very much," she finished in a small voice.

Remington turned to face her. "If I came to you and explained what was going on, could you listen with an open mind? Let me continue to help them?"

"I don't know, will this be happening often?"

"It hasn't so far, but I can't guarantee anything."

"Ground rule number one, don't go sneaking off doing something potentially dangerous without consulting me first?"

"Agreed." He sat next to her on the couch. "But that also applies to you and pursuing cases."

"Agreed."

"Ground rule number two," Remington suggested. "No emotional outbursts at the office in front of clients."

"Agreed," Laura said emphatically.

"Ground rule number three."

"I thought you didn't really have any rules?"

Remington put a finger to his lips to indicate quiet. "Number three, please treat me as an equal, at least outside the office?"

"I'll work on it."

"Thank you."

"Number four," Laura offered.

"Yes?"

"No more insane rules about seeing or not seeing each other outside the office."

"Definitely." He slipped his arms around her.

"I missed you this week too, a lot more than I thought I would." Laura wrapped her arms around his.

"Good."

"I'll try to stop being so analytical and take more chances, emotionally," Laura promised, turning to face him.

"And I'll try to stop being reckless and taking too many chances, now that I know it matters to you."

"It may take us awhile to figure this relationship thing out, especially with our work and your past constantly interfering."

"Good things take time. Good cheese, great wine, a masterful painting --"

"A master robbery?"

Remington smiled and kissed her on the cheek. "Staying for dessert Laura?"

"I think I might take the chance." Laura leaned in and kissed him on the mouth.


End file.
